


The Professor

by melliejellie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, BoKuroo Week, BoKuroo Week 2019, Companion!Bokuto, Doctor Who AU, Fluff, Kuroo is so slow to make a move, Light Angst, Loving Glances, M/M, Pining, Time Lord!Kuroo, Time Traveler AU, hand holding, no knowledge of Doctor Who necessary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie
Summary: Kuroo is a renegade but good-natured alien (known only as The Professor) who travels through space and time in a blue police box that’s just as mysterious as his past.Bokuto is an excitable yet thoughtful human who was simply trying to sneak into an interesting class for a semester and ended up on the journey of a lifetime.Will the ghosts of Kuroo’s troubled past continue to keep his big-grinning, loud-talking, kind-hearted companion at a distance, or will he let the past go and allow his present to become a better future?***Enjoy this wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey contribution to Bokuroo Week 2019!(No knowledge of Doctor Who is necessary. I'll summarize the most important little bits but it's not crucial to understanding the fic.)





	1. Day 1 Supernatural

**Author's Note:**

> Basic Doctor Who Lore (in case you want it):
> 
> 1) The Doctor (now the Professor in this fic… it just seemed to *fit* Kuroo, ya know?) is a super-smart, super-charming alien from a planet called Gallifrey. 
> 
> 2) The Doctor is a Time Lord from Gallifrey. Time Lords can travel through space and time. They have two hearts (why not?) and can regenerate.
> 
> 3) Regeneration happens when a Time Lord is dying but, instead of dying, they regenerate into a new body. Time Lords maintain their memory but their physical appearance and bits of their personality changes. They can also change genders (Time Lords don’t care about the binary - they swoosh right through it).
> 
> 4) The Doctor is several hundred years old (depending on when you meet him) and the shortest version of his history is that he's, understandably, seen some Capital T Traumatic Stuff in his long life. However, he remains committed to helping others despite knowing that he's the last of his kind (ish).
> 
> 5) The Doctor usually has one or more travel companions, typically a human (but not always).

The sound of cracking branches and whipping vines rings out behind Kuroo and Bokuto as they race through the densely-packed forest. Kuroo’s laugh fills the air even as they run for their lives. Bokuto’s a few paces behind him, shouting curses as he catches up, his own laughter spilling out as he tries to scold The Professor for another adventure gone ridiculously awry.

“I thought you said they knew you!” Bokuto yells and dodges as another enchanted vine swipes past his head. The druids are gaining on them. It’s an unfair advantage when they have control over the entire forest.

“Case of mistaken identity, I suppose. Easy to do.” Kuroo shouts back, practically skipping from the delicious mix of danger and delight. “That, or they do remember me and I’ve just forgotten something awfully annoying I’ve done in the past.”

“I bet you were obnoxious!”

“Rude, I said annoying.” Kuroo snaps his head backwards to deliver a particularly disdainful scowl.

“Look out!”

A thick vine smacks Kuroo against a tree trunk. He kicks and swings to break free, but Bokuto’s there in an instant, pulling the vines back with own two hands. Kuroo’s body hums with a long-forgotten but not unwelcome feeling when he watches the show of strength. In his daze he forgets their current situation.

“Go, stupid!” Bokuto yells, shoving him back towards the path and the chase resumes at full speed.

Only now the druids must have figured the vines weren’t strong enough after all, because spells are now starting to sizzle past their ears instead.

The TARDIS is up ahead like a blue beacon of safety. Kuroo snaps his fingers and the door swings open on his time machine. His stride grows longer as he tries to sweep himself and Bokuto inside. He makes a jump for it and lands with his limbs sprawled wide on the metallic floor. Bokuto bounds in after him and is almost through when a whiz of purple light ricochets off the door and grazes Bokuto’s shoulder. He falls onto Kuroo with a grunt, laughing and panting.

Kuroo holds his face with both hands, laughing too, until Bokuto abruptly stops, a surprised expression on his face. He hiccups. He twitches. He blinks. Then Kuroo’s no longer holding the face of his human companion between his hands, but the soft, feathery face of a rather perturbed looking owl.

He sits up, the owl still cradled between his hands. “Oh my. This is new.” He sets the owl down in his lap and pets his plume from tip to tail. At first the owl leans into it, his eyes closing, but then he snaps back to awareness, settling into a serious glare. “I’m almost certain it’s temporary. The spell hit the door before it grazed you.” Kuroo reassures. “And plus, you do make a rather adorable owl.”

Bokuto, the owl, squawks anxiously, flapping his wide wingspan dramatically several times before seemingly resigning himself to his fate. Over and over, Kuroo reassures him that it must be temporary, that he’s dealt with these druids before, that it’s going to be alright. Kuroo runs gentle fingers down the soft feathers until Bokuto settles down, leaning against Kuroo’s chest and shifting from little leg to little leg as he finds a comfortable way to stand on unfamiliar feet.

Then there’s a hiccup. A twitch. A wide-eyed blink. Bokuto returns to his human form like a bird hatching from an egg, awkward and messy and still in Kuroo’s lap. Kuroo lets himself get pinned by Bokuto’s growing form. “That was so stupid!” Bokuto yells, inches from Kuroo’s face.

“But--” Kuroo teases in reply.

“But it was fun.” Bokuto grins from ear to ear, the smile reaching his eyes and filling Kuroo’s entire view with the brightest star he’s seen in his hundreds of years of traveling.

“Yea, it was fun.”

“Always.” Bokuto whispers, his face momentarily shifting into something soft and unreadable before he quickly kisses Kuroo on the tip of his nose and rolls to the side to lie beside him on the floor.

“Always.” Kuroo whispers back.


	2. Day 2 Galaxies/Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their Beginning ♡

Two Earth years ago on a rainy day in April, Kuroo stopped a student trying to sneak out of class early at the back of the auditorium. He was teaching! How dare he try to miss anything important.

Alright, teaching in a loose sense of the word. Instructing. Guiding. Facilitating college students’ exploration into whatever path he wanted to travel down with chalk in hand, furiously scrawling across a chalkboard he’d insisted the university find for him. 

That day in Philosophy 301 the topic was how the universe has no edge. What’s it expanding into? What’s beyond the edge? He’d been as close as he could to the edge now and then as it stretched into time to try and peer past the nonexistent corner and he never could find an answer. 

In short it was a topic anyone should have wanted to hear about and here was this know-it-all trying to sneak out the back.

“Stay after class.” Kuroo chucked a piece of chalk in his general direction and it landed on the stairs far behind the young man, but the message was clear.

After everyone else filed out, the moment Kuroo opened his mouth to speak -- some monologue about attendance and the importance of being present in the moment dancing on his tongue -- the young man poured out his soul.

“I’m sorry! I know I’m not supposed to be in here. I didn’t sign up for the class but I saw you give a talk last year and I’ve just been obsessed ever since. I’m not even in this department. I’m a grad student in the History department, so I don’t even really have the time to be here, but I sneak in every class and sneak out the back before you finish talking so you won’t notice, only you did notice, and now I don’t know what to do. Don’t tell anyone, please? And can I still come? I know it’s a lot to ask, but, please? I take lots of notes!” At that he held up a rather worn-looking blue notebook and hurriedly thumbed through the pages as proof.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow as he took in this spikey-haired, golden-eyed, over-eager student. “You attend my class… even though you’re not enrolled?”

“Yes.” He looked guilty.

“And you take notes?”

“Everyday.” Worried.

“Even though you aren’t graded?”

“Yes. I’m here because I like what you talk about.” Hopeful.

“And that is--” Most days Kuroo wasn’t even sure. In his 600-some-odd years of life, keeping tracking of individual days seemed less than necessary.

“Everything! I never know what’s gonna come up. And it’s awesome.” The young man - everyone is young to Kuroo - pursed his lips and opened his eyes wide, expectant.

“What’s your name?”

“Bokuto. Bokuto Koutarou, sir.”

“No need for ‘sir.’”

“Then what should I say?”

“Professor.”

“Professor - who?”

“The Professor.” And though he’d chosen the moniker at a time when his life when it had meaning, when his younger self set his intentions to make his mark on the universe, the name found new purpose when Bokuto’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“That’s weird. But okay, Professor.”

That afternoon Bokuto stayed behind to talk. And he continued to stay after class for weeks, always ready with weird or thoughtful questions that either make Kuroo throw his head back and cackle or dance about the room as he offered lengthy explanations far beyond the scope of Bokuto’s question. In the beginning Bokuto wrote notes as quickly as he could, but as the weeks passed the notebook closed, his weary pen laid to rest, and he sat captivated with curious eyes, ridiculous hair, and a hidden depth of spirit that Kuroo suspected no one else gave the man credit for.

“I know that we use filters on telescopes out in space to let in various wavelengths of light, then we mash them all together to, theoretically, color images of space - nebulas, galaxies, all that good stuff - but how do we know we’re getting it right? I bet we’re missing out on everything.”

With that, the urge that Kuroo had tried to keep at bay since that first afternoon tumbled out of his lips before memories of those who came before reopened old wounds in time to stop him. “Would you like to see?”

“What?”

“Would you like to see for yourself?” Kuroo felt the bubbling well of optimism and adventure in his stomach, felt the uptick of excitement in his two hearts.

“What? Do you have, like, a scientist connection where you get the good stuff?”

“Something like that.”

Bokuto agreed to a little field trip and Kuroo walked a very confused Bokuto to the back of his office where there was a heavy, oak door. He waited to open it until he was sure Bokuto was paying attention. Kuroo always wanted the presentation of his TARDIS to invoke a strong response at first glance. Sure it was a blue police box, but it was a rather nice one. He had taken time to cosmetically repair damage from volcanoes or angry mobs over the past hundred or so years. 

But Bokuto simply regarded the blue box with boredom etched across his face. He’d expected more, clearly. “Do you keep stuff in there? Is it like a fancy filing cabinet?”

Kuroo snapped his fingers and the door cracked open. He walked in first, anticipating the moment the unsuspecting visitor inevitably short-circuited once they found themselves inside a working time machine.

Undaunted, Bokuto waltzed in behind him. He set one foot on the metal flooring, looked around, and said, “Neat.”

That was not at all what Kuroo expected. Where was the shock? The awe? The ‘it’s bigger on the inside’ shouted in surprise?

“Neat?” Kuroo repeated, throwing his arms wide as evidence of the need of a stronger reaction.

Bokuto followed him in. “No, it’s excellent.” At least his eyes darted around, taking in everything. “It’s way cooler than what I expected.”

“What you expected?”

“Yea.” Bokuto smiled. “The back of my notebook is filled with my theories about who you are since you’re clearly not the professor emeritus that your door says. My latest idea was that you were some kind of ghost, but I’d also explored alien possibilities and this,” his grin grew impossibly wider, “is so much better than I imagined.”

Kuroo looked down at his own arm, surprise to find his hair standing on edge, little goosebumps dotting his skin. He suddenly felt the need to clear his throat. “An alien?” He snapped his fingers again and the door shut behind them.

“Well, yea. Humans don’t have this kind of stuff.” Bokuto hovered near the center console where switches and knobs lit up in bright blues against the shiny metal.

“I could be a human from the future.” Kuroo leaned casually against the console next to Bokuto and sealed the comment with a wink.

“Are you?” Bokuto stepped towards him, eyes wide and mouth agape in wonder.

“I’m not.”

“So where are you from?” Bokuto leaned a little closer. At this distance Kuroo could see that within his golden eyes were flecks of a darker shade of yellow, like an imperfectly perfect gemstone.

“A planet. Not yours. As for when I’m from, harder to pin down on your timeline. So,” Kuroo spun around, grabbing hold of a screen and swiveling it in front of Bokuto’s face, “where’d you like to go?”

Kuroo had been down this path before. Typically humans wanted to visit the future first. Sure, the past was interesting, but this race always had it sights set on progress. It was one of the things Kuroo most admired and most feared about humans. That tricky balance was why he always took humans somewhere in their own time first.

“Where? Or when?” Bokuto stared at the screen.

“Let’s pick a where now, a when later, and a where and when a little later than that.”

Bokuto spun his head around, his nose nearly touching Kuroo’s. “You mean I can go with you more than once?”

Kuroo inhaled sharply and decidedly chose to ignore the heavy thumping in his chest. “If you’d like.”

Bokuto fixed his eyes back on the screen, eyes zooming over the surface trying to pick a place to see.

After some suggestions of particularly lovely galaxies to see from afar, Bokuto picked one and Kuroo took him there, waiting to see his reaction. The first time was always special with a new traveling companion because it told Kuroo a lot about them. In so many years of living, he knew how to read their reactions and could decide if this arrangement had a future or if it would end at a few stops in space and time.

So far Bokuto had been both bubbly and thoughtful, sincere to a fault. Kuroo predicted he would swing open the doors of the TARDIS, regard the sight before him in significant silence for a moment before welling up with the infectious excitement that had breathed life back in to Kuroo’s dull life the past several weeks.

Instead, Bokuto opened the door and promptly sat right at the edge, his legs folded together, his head in his hands - and he wept. Great, big teardrops fell silently down his face and around his great, big smile. Kuroo watched, stunned to silence himself.

“I’m so small.” Bokuto whispered.

Kuroo almost didn’t catch it, would have missed it were it not for his focus on the man’s lips as they quivered at the sight before him. “Oh, but you’re not--”

“Back home I’m big and tall, I look strong -- I feel strong -- but I am so small.” Slowly, Bokuto turns, wiping the tear streaks from his face. “It’s so amazing. I’m so small and everything else is so big and it’s amazing.”

Kuroo tries to listen, but he doesn’t hear the rest of his reply. He’s too busy looking at someone who inexplicably became his whole universe the instant he stepped into his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I read the prompts for Day 2, that's when I thought about The Doctor and knew I had to make it happen. And that last line? Oh it's cheesy, I should've rewritten it or cut it, but it's been in the outline since the beginning so I left that cheese all up in there. This *might* be my fave of the week (but not all of them are done yet, so we shall see).
> 
> Side note: I've been catching up on the newest season of Who with Jodie Whittaker and ٩(◦`꒳´◦)۶ it's so good so far!
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).


	3. Day 3 Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a pleasant spring evening, Bokuto teaches Kuroo about vulnerability.

After a particularly rough rumble with a race of sentient snowmen, Bokuto insists that they spend a few days actually at the university and not off enjoying the delights and dangers of the universe in between his classes. 

“Plus,” Bokuto says, “it’s spring, Professor. No snowmen here.” He shudders at the memory, casually slinging an arm around Kuroo’s shoulders.

Kuroo instantly stiffens under the extra attention, though he doubts Bokuto notices. Kuroo’s had enough training over the last several hundred years to hide his concerns. Bokuto just -- enters his space so easily. So many of his other companions held him dear, just as he did with them, but there was typically some comfortable distance.

Bokuto ignores distance. And personal boundaries. And decorum. Certainly walking across a prestigious campus as day slips into dusk with one’s hand thrown over a distinguished professor would be far from acceptable, but Bokuto could seemingly care less.

“And besides, there’s a festival tonight! They string up lights between the cherry blossoms and everyone drinks way too much while chilling on blankets and listening to some awful bands. Hey wait --” he stops short and Kuroo has to take a step back to stay with him -- “can you even drink?”

“I have all the necessary organs, so yes.”

Bokuto shrugs. “I don’t know. You have the whole two hearts thing, so can’t blame a guy for asking.”

“That’s the one difference.” Kuroo huffs. “Two hearts is the only thing that separates us. Well, that and my people evolved to no longer have the ticking time bomb known as an appendix in our bodies. Oh, and my brain is far superior and capable of processing multiple millenia worth of knowledge.”

“Two hearts. One big brain. Zero explodey bits.” Bokuto laughs.

“Precisely.”

“But you might be too old. Might put you to sleep.”

“I’m young! For my age, I look great.”

“Being young and still looking good for your age are two different things.” Bokuto winks and starts to walk again but slower than before.

Kuroo gestures wide, as if presenting his outfit as evidence. “On the outside, I look like I’m the same age as you, maybe a year or two older at most.”

“But--”

Kuroo clears his throat dramatically. “As I said, for my age, I look great.”

“Alright, old man. Now shut up and enjoy the night.” Bokuto spreads out the two towels he brought for them to sit on. They find a spot towards the back since Kuroo is, after all, still pretending to be a very important professor.

Somehow he’s managed to gain some klout in the department and this random university in Japan has become somewhat of a homebase for him, but he feels restless, like an itch deep down in his bones. It has him fidgeting and trying to bring up places for them to visit next while Bokuto throws back beers and cheers for the bands.

Bokuto leans over, pressing his shoulder into Kuroo’s arm and settling his cheek on his shoulder. “Just enjoy what’s happening in front of you right now.” Bokuto snuggles in a bit closer and Kuroo catches a blush against across the bridge of his nose.

From the beer, Kuroo decides. It must be from the beer.

He says it so simply like it’s an easy task. Kuroo glances down as best he can at Bokuto who’s still nestled against his shoulder. When he was younger, he would have let himself do exactly what Bokuto said -- enjoy the now. In the middle of the music, the lights, the scent of spring strong in the air, he would have let himself bend down and kiss Bokuto’s forehead. Outside. Where others might see.

Kuroo feels so tightly coiled inside himself. Bokuto is still such a young thing in this universe. He lives so freely. He speaks through physical touch as much as his huge smiles and excitable words, but Kuroo’s since lost that. He used to think he could pinpoint when, that first time loving someone openly wounded his very soul, but it’s happened so many times now he’s lost count.

But he still finds himself in spots like this - sitting on an old towel on a campus lawn wishing he could whisk Bokuto off to one of Chopin’s concerts instead of listening to screeching guitars but somehow, just a little, letting himself take Bokuto’s advice.

Later that night he finds himself back at Bokuto’s small and fairly chaotic apartment. He’s been here a handful of times when Bokuto needed to grab something before a trip or when Kuroo showed up out of the blue to rip Bokuto from his ordinary life and show him the extraordinary. 

Kuroo stands beside Bokuto who seems to be joyfully taking in the (relatively dull) view with another beer in hand. The air’s grown a bit chilly and Bokuto’s thrown on a soft, grey sweatshirt from his old high school volleyball team. The whole evening has been disarmingly soft and simple, Kuroo muses.

Bokuto’s gaze meets his, the gentleness of his eyes in stark contrast to the intensity behind them. “What were you like before you met me?”

Soft and simple - until that.

“Exactly like this, only better.” Kuroo winks, the knee-jerk defense mechanism kicking it as memories threaten to escape the walled-off corners of his mind. If only those memories didn’t have names. It would be so much easier if they didn’t have names, if their faces had been lost to time.

The ones he’d loved.

The ones he’d befriended.

The ones he’d failed to save.

Bokuto raises an eyebrow and smirks. “If you say so.”

They fall into silence again, but for Kuroo it’s anything but comfortable like before. His mind is dredging through hundreds of years of friends and lovers lost and he has no idea how he’s still so fragile, so feeble-minded and unable to keep it all at bay after all these years.

“I just figured you must’ve had some pretty excellent adventures before this.”

Bokuto’s still looking at him, but Kuroo’s eyes are a thousand miles away off on the horizon, scanning the rooftops for a foothold, something that feels real and in the present moment.

Kuroo laughs, throwing his head back. “Of course! I’ve told you about so many already. It’s why you stick around, isn’t it?” Kuroo turns and winks, but Bokuto just steadies his stare.

“That’s not why.”

Kuroo finds himself swallowing hard as he searches for his voice. He laughs again, forced. “So why, then?”

Bokuto smiles, bright and sincere. “You’re wonderful.”

Kuroo doesn’t register the tear until it reaches his lips, salty and strange. Another quickly follows. His expression remains stone-like and still but tears fall in quick succession as he stares back.

Bokuto reaches out a hand to clasp Kuroo’s on top of the balcony railing. Neither of them move for some time, spare the spring breeze rustling their clothes, Bokuto’s gentle breathing, and Kuroo’s silent dam of memories trickling down his cheeks, begging to bust free.

But then Bokuto stretches out his arms and pulls Kuroo tight against him. On instinct, Kuroo pulls back and Bokuto glances at him, nervous. Kuroo’s chest heaves with unshed sobs and he acts on another instinct, something real and buried deep within himself. 

Kuroo holds his hands to Bokuto’s face and kisses him with everything he’s got, frightened but unyielding. The dam bursts when Bokuto kisses him back, insistent and sure.

That night Kuroo curls up alongside Bokuto and weeps until his body is dry.

In the morning he’ll pretend it never happened.

In the morning he’ll ask Bokuto where he wants to go and Bokuto will grin wide, brighter than the sun and start them off on something fascinating and new.

In the morning Kuroo will be the Professor again - defender of Earth, explorer of space and time - but for now, in the disguise of night, he’s just Kuroo -- a lonely young man who ran away to find himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the worries and woes of a lone Time Lord. ｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡
> 
> Thanks for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you! ୧། ☉ ౪ ☉ །୨
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).


	4. Day 4 Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the lesson's Kuroo's learned about the universe need to be unlearned. And Bokuto is a a Very Good Boi.

This journey began as many did -- with a distress call. Even when they traveled for fun, it always seemed as though someone -- somewhere, somewhen -- needed saving and The Professor was willing to answer the call - even if he dressed in his ridiculous plaid tweed jacket with suede patches on the elbows. ("It makes me look trustworthy!")

This time Kuroo and Bokuto found themselves landing on a space colony under siege. The barrage above shook the floors on which they stood and the walls creaked and groaned as they absorbed each impact. The canons that rocked the whole structure would cease every few minutes, but it was immediately clear that the situation had been going on for some time and that the colonists trapped inside were at their limits.

The blue, humanoid species on board were short in stature but large in life, and spoke with grand gestures and expressive faces that pulled at Bokuto’s heart strings as they gathered in a group around him.

“They -- the ship firing at us -- have everything we need!”

“A cargo ship tried to reach us--”

“--so many times--”

“But each time it’s intercepted and they steal all of our medicine and our food.”

“Our children are starving!”

“There are too many of us that need care for us to last much longer.”

“They’re the worst kind of species.”

“Evil, pure evil.”

“We won’t rest until we blow that ship apart!”

A round of cheers erupts before the crowd goes quiet again, slipping back into sad stories.

“There’s another cargo ship on the way, if only--”

While Bokuto lends a listening ear, Kuroo sees an opportunity. He disappears into the depths of the ship to look for more than what he can immediately see. He checks the colony’s travel logs, their launch records, daily captain logs, anything that can help paint a clearer picture of the situation. In his youth he acted on snap decisions far too many times and made things far worse than they needed to be. If there was one thing Kuroo had tried to learn over and over, it was that everything was more complex than it seemed.

Armed with data, a clear mind, and a purpose, Kuroo returns to the upper deck where Bokuto was still surrounded by the smaller species, listening to their woes. Kuroo watches as Bokuto’s eyes glisten with tears, his big heart so obviously on his sleeve. He feels a pinch in his two hearts at the scene but he buries the feeling under hundreds of years of hard-won perspective.

He approaches and sets a gentle hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. The other man swallows hard and looks up at him. Kuroo’s resolve nearly cracks. “Bokuto, a word?”

Silently, spare some trapped sobs, Bokuto follows after him until they’re in a room by themselves, back near where the TARDIS had first landed. In the dim lighting even Bokuto’s bright spirit seems to fade.

“We have to help them.” Bokuto swipes the back of his hand across his eyes.

“I agree, b--”

“So what can you do?” Bokuto interrupts, sounding desperate. “What can we do to help them? There’s another ship coming, what if we--”

“Bokuto.” Kuroo says softly. “It’s not that simple.”

The tears stop and Bokuto’s brows knit tightly across his forehead. “Not that simple?” He barks. “They’re hungry and sick and they need our help. What could be more simple than that?”

“War is a tricky thing--”

“This isn’t a war! They’re under attack!” One of Bokuto’s fists balls up at his side. There’s fire in his eyes. “How can you not see that?”

Kuroo takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “For every one missle that strikes this colony, the colony fires two. The ballistic capabilities of this colony are far beyond what I would expect to see from a simple civilian vessel.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we have no way of knowing who’s right in this situation.” Kuroo takes a step forward, intending to reach out and cross the growing gap between them but Bokuto recoils.

“They’re sick! They need help. There’s nothing else to it.” Bokuto drives his foot into the floor with a clang.

“There’s so much else that you can’t see.” Kuroo smiles weakly at him, trying to help.

“No! It’s simple and you just refuse to see it. When that cargo ship comes I’m going to be sure it makes it through the barrage.”

“How?”

“I’ll find a way!” He shouts and starts to storm off.

“Bokuto, you don’t underst--”

“No you don’t understand.” He spins on his heel and drives a finger towards Kuroo’s face. “I’m going to help them intercept that ship, whether it’s stealing or just claiming what they’re owed, and you can help or not but at least I know I’m doing what’s right.”

Kuroo takes a deep breath. His lips become a thin, straight line. He wordlessly raises his hand and gently clasps his fingers around Bokuto’s shaking fist. He turns, his coat snapping out behind him, and slowly tugs Bokuto closer to the TARDIS.

“I’m not going anywhere unless you promise to help them. The ship is on its way.”

Kuroo doesn’t reply, but he registers the sound of Bokuto’s feet hitting the ground behind him, one after the other.

“Are you going to help?”

Another step closer, then another, then another.

Bokuto finally pulls his hand away. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to help.” The deception of omission in his words flies over Bokuto. His eyes grow watery with hope. Kuroo’s not sure what he’ll do, but he knows he can’t steal from one group based on the word of another, not when the exchange seems so obviously mutually aggressive. So, he is going to help, in a way. He’s just going to help Bokuto understand.

Kuroo launches his little blue box on a very short journey, one across the battlefield and onto the other ship. After a tense moment of having blasters shoved in their faces, the fact that the situation is nearly the same on the other end becomes too simple to miss. They look nearly identical to their adversaries, perhaps a few facial features defining them as genetically unique, but their story is nearly the same. Their ship was passing through on their way to a new home when the colony fired on them. They steal from the ship as their only means of survival until the battle ends. Their only wish is to finally melt the colony with their cannon fire once and for all.

Kuroo knows that if they picked sides, if they helped one, they’d harm the other. 

Just like before, Bokuto listens to their stories, a complicated tapestry of emotions etched across his face. When they finally have a moment to themselves, Kuroo expects him to look solemn, to accept that the universe has no easy answers sometimes. “Now do you see? We can’t help one at the expense of the other. It’s not that simple.”

“We can help them both.” A determined look flashes through Bokuto’s eyes.

“What?”

“We can board the ship first, divide everything evenly, and share.”

“That won’t stop them from firing at one another until one of them explodes.” Kuroo’s temper finally starts to boil, just a little, below the surface.

“It might.”

“No it won’t. It never does.”

“You don’t know that.”

Kuroo shuts his eyes tight, blinks back whatever threatens to rise out of him, and answers, “I do.” Memories of other battlefields, other foolish attempts, ruined optimism--

“But maybe not this time.” This time it’s Bokuto that raises his hand and gently clasps his fingers around Kuroo’s. He unfurls Kuroo’s tightly coiled fist one slender finger at a time and laces his fingers through the spaces in between. “We have to try.”

And so they do.

Back in the TARDIS again they intercept the ship long before it reaches its destination. They politely explain to the captain and crew that they are stealing, yes, but it’s for the very best reason, a most well-mannered and well-meaning theft. They even manage to convince the crew to help load the TARDIS with life-saving supplies.

They deliver everything to cheers and applause on both ships. Each time Kuroo refrains from explaining the whole situation but Bokuto launches into a happy, hopeful tale of sharing. And each time a hush falls over the crowd, grumbles then spread about aiding the enemy.

But Bokuto’s grin never falls, even if it does seem a bit stretched by the end.

As they float away to a safer distance, Bokuto makes them stay. He wants to know that he’s right. He watches through the cracked door to see if the firing ceases for good. Kuroo tries again and again to get him to look away, close the door, get his mind thinking about the next adventure. Kuroo doesn’t want to see that smile crack.

Bokuto, however, is stubborn to a fault. Kuroo caves and waits for the inevitable.

Only it doesn’t happen. Neither the colony nor the ship fire, but they also stay firmly locked in their places. By the time he finally manages to pry Bokuto away from the door, silence still reigns in the space between them.

“We did it.” Bokuto says, throwing his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders.

Kuroo knows that he’ll never be sure if it worked. Unless they stayed until either moved, they’d never really know. But with those strong arms wrapped around him, something broken in him starts to mend like Bokuto is forcibly squeezing him back together. He laughs and the sound surprises him. There’s something softer to the sound now that hasn’t been there for some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The companion helping the Doctor remember compassion is basically a trope in the series at this point. And hey, it's a trope I enjoy. The fresh young-by-his-standards human companion has a less jaded outlook on the universe!
> 
> Thanks to those of you still reading! Do you like this weird little thing? It's definitely the most niche AU I've written so far, like, even more niche than this Regency AU I did for Krtsk. I'm just, like, sailing this TARDIS into niche land and having a grand ol' time doing so!
> 
> ٩(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)۶
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).


	5. Day 5 Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto gets some new ink.

The first time Kuroo saw Bokuto’s tattoos was a couple of weeks into their new companionship. Kuroo was used to seeing Bokuto in his adorable attempts at being a professional graduate student of history at a prestigious university. He mostly wore long sleeves or collegiate-looking cardigans that were stretched over his obviously toned muscles.

But one afternoon he burst through the doors of Kuroo’s office wearing a white t-shirt with the university logo and Kuroo cursed his baser instincts that reacted at the sight. Sure, he was still the bright-eyed Bokuto he’d come to appreciate, but now there was just so much more of him to see -- including finely inked black lines and bits of color peeking out from under his sleeves.

“Well, this is new.” Kuroo remarked.

“Sun’s out, gun’s out, Professor.” Bokuto winked.

Back then Kuroo hadn’t known him well enough to ask about them, but during their travels he’d come to learn about each one. There were large ones like the abstract mountains from his grandparents’ home where he spent every summer when he was young. Simpler ones like a line from his favorite historian above his heart. Or his first - a relic from his past - a silly, little object from a show his friends all watched so they each got it tattooed on the same place on their bodies.

“I know it seems a little all over the place,” he said, “but I want to get each one at a time when I want to remember how I’m feeling - good or bad - so I remember what got me here. One day I’ll have ‘em all over.”

One afternoon after class, Kuroo starts their usual walk together to his office so they can chat about the universe or pop off to see more of, but Bokuto rubs the back of his head and says he has an appointment.

Kuroo raises an eyebrow and deadpans, “You know we could go somewhere and I could still have you back in time. We can do that. It’s a time machine, after all.”

“I know, I know,” Bokuto blushes, “but I really don’t want to miss this one and -” he smiles wide “-you could come with me.”

Which is how Kuroo finds himself in a tattoo shop watching a shirtless Bokuto grin and bear his way through the process of getting new ink on his shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” Kuroo winces, watching closely -- probably too closely judging by the gruff reaction of the artist. It’s fine, Kuroo thinks, he already stands out in his tweed jacket with elbow patches, a fine addition to his wardrobe if he says so himself. He might as well lean into the vibe he’s crafted here.

“Not really. I mean, hurts on the bony bits and the tender, squishy bits, but the stuff in the middle’s okay.” Bokuto carefully glances over at him. “You can’t tell me you’ve never done this before.”

“It’s just not something we do, what with the regeneration and all.” Kuroo eyes the artist suspiciously. “Don’t want to invest in an old me with a new me right around the corner.” He says vaguely, still encroaching on the artist’s space eager with curiosity until he’s told to back away.

Kuroo watches as a scene unfolds on Bokuto’s skin. It's smaller, tucked between two existing memories on Bokuto's skin, but the details are sharp. First the black lines bring the edges of space to life - planets, stars. Then the color begins and memories of their visits rush back with every splash of new colors. From the vivid details, it’s clear how much Bokuto held on to in his mind’s eye. Kuroo can only wonder what the artist thinks as he brings to life descriptions of places he’s never seen and assume Bokuto’s weird imagination has cooked up. 

As the design works its way down his shoulder, it becomes lighter and lighter, fading and then re-emerging as the colors of Earth’s sky at dusk.

By the time he’s done, several hours have passed. Bokuto’s starving so they stop at a cheap little place for dinner, one of Bokuto’s favorites by the college. Kuroo finds himself uncharacteristically speechless. He keeps glancing at the now-wrapped patch of skin under Bokuto’s t-shirt.

“So why now?” Kuroo finally asks on the way back to the campus. “Why’d you want to get this done today?”

Bokuto stretches his arms wide and settles them behind his head, looking up at the street lamps lining the brick walkway. “Remember how I told ya I get 'em when I want to remember how I feel? I want to never forget how I feel right now on this exact day, this exact night, on this stretch of uneven brick sidewalk, walking with you.”

No matter how many times it happens, Kuroo’s always stunned when Bokuto’s sincerity is laid bare for the world to see. He spills out his heart so easily once there’s trust. Each time it wipes Kuroo’s mind clean of his prepared responses - his jokes, his puns - and he’s left with words on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say, so badly, this time be brave and be the first to say them, but he can’t. Not yet.

Instead he offers what he can and hopes his meaning carries through, “I want to remember this, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee bit o' fluff. ٩(●˙▿˙●)۶
> 
> Days 6 and 7 are stuck in the outline stages and when I try to dig them out I haven't liked 'em too much, so maaaaaybe we'll see part 6 tomorrow? Maybe a day later? Who knows! Time's all wibbly wobbly timey wimey anyway.
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).


	6. Day 6 Late Nights/Early Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sunset and a sunrise.

“And that’s why we can’t mess with history.” Kuroo scolds, but there’s still a playful smile on his lips. He swipes snow off the brim of the top hat he borrowed from deep in the TARDIS’ closet and chucks it to the side.

“What? I was only trying to be helpful.” Bokuto tugs at the cravat around his neck, looking glad to be finally rid of the thing after an entire day in stiff clothing.

“By pulling out your smartphone? There’s no google in 1817. That was tough to explain away.” Kuroo spins on his heel to wink and grin, but finds Bokuto’s no longer looking at him.

He’s drooping on the steps, his own hat askew on his head, the fabric of his now loose cravat twisting anxiously between his fingers. “Sorry I messed things up.”

Kuroo quickly tries to backtrack. “Oh that was a small thing. Only joking, Bo. I’ve explained away far worse before. Worked out fine.”

Bokuto shrugs.

He’s been like this before. Most of the time Bokuto’s able to roll with the punches, always with a big smile. Other times he shuts down, rolls up so tightly like he’s trying to disappear inside himself. Kuroo worries his fingers along the hem of his jacket. They’ve traveled together long enough by now, he berates himself, he should have the words to say.

Instead, he relies on an old favorite - distraction. “Wanna see something cool?”

Another shrug.

Kuroo whips around to the center console of the TARDIS with a little more flair than usual and punches in the coordinates for a spot he’d been saving. Now’s as good as ever.

He manages to get Bokuto to change back into his normal clothing, complete with a puffy jacket because “it’s gonna be chilly,” before they land. Kuroo grabs his hand and pulls him out the front doors.

Stretched in front of them is a vast valley with strange, thin purple grasses swaying in the breeze. The sky is alight with reds and yellows at the peak of a breathtaking sunset. Kuroo walks a few steps, dragging Bokuto behind him, before he casts a glance over his shoulder to check on his companion. There’s a smile on his face again, by no means as bright as it usually is, but it’s there. Kuroo’s heartbeats quicken at the comforting sight.

The breeze ruffles their hair and Kuroo lets go of Bokuto’s hand long enough to sit down on the grass with the bright sun, just a bit closer than Earth’s, beginning to settle to their left as the pinks and blues of dusk begin to spread. Bokuto settles down beside him, their shoulders touching.

“Why are we here?” Bokuto asks softly.

“Just wait. It’s coming.”

Kuroo feels a heavy hand on top of his, strong fingers wiggling in to fit between his own. He bites his lip and continues to stare forward.

With no sound but the wind in their ears, night sweeps over the sky. The constellations are totally different than what Bokuto’s used to seeing. Kuroo breaks the silence to point out a few that he knows, that he’s been to, that they’ve been to together. The hand over his holds on tighter.

“Is this what you wanted me to see?”

“Not yet, soon.”

Bokuto lies back on the grass, cradling the back of his head with his hands. Kuroo misses their connection, but he falls back on the grass with him.

“Why do you go back to Earth?” Bokuto asks.

Kuroo stares at the stars, preparing himself to give the real answer, not the ones he’s jokingly doled out to dodge the question before. He lets out a sigh. “Because I’ve no home to go back to and I suppose, for as wonderful as the rest of the universe is, everyone gets tired and needs somewhere to hang their hat, so to speak.”

“So you like being there?”

There’s something weird in his tone that Kuroo can’t place a finger on yet. “I suppose. The university’s been a great place for me to still do a bit of learning and bask in the adoration of students.”

Bokuto snorts. Kuroo’s happy to hear it. “You should hear what they say behind your back.”

“Probably that I’m the best. Simply the hottest ticket on campus, both in engaging lectures and in dashing good looks. 10 out of 10. Would recommend!”

“Yea. Alright.” They both laugh softly and a comfortable silence settles back between them for a moment before Bokuto clears his throat. “I mean, do we have to go back all the time?”

“We don’t have to. What do you --”

“I mean, like, do we have to go back, you know, where you teach and I work on my thesis and go to work and get hounded by my mother on where my life is going like none of this is out here, like my life isn’t so much more than what everyone else can see?”

His voice cracks and the sound hits like a heavy weight on Kuroo’s chest. He swallows hard before he repeats, “We don’t have to.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

He can hear Bokuto shifting restlessly beside him in the grass but he doesn’t look over. For how much Bokuto wears his very big heart on his sleeve, there are some things he keeps close to his chest. Kuroo understands the desire, certainly, but the longer they’ve been together the more he’s learned that for every bit he shares with Bokuto, the other man will share so much more.

“I ran away.” Kuroo offers.

“I know that.”

“But you don’t know why.”

A beat passes before Bokuto responds. “I don’t.”

“Short version is Time Lords swore an oath of non-interference. If we see something, including heinous acts of evil, we’re just observers. I didn’t agree with that. So, coupled with my reckless nature, I stole a TARDIS, nearly wrecked it, fast forward a couple hundred years and now here I am.” 

He grins into the night sky, sensing his normal wall of devilish charm creeping back to the surface where it comforts him. He pushes it back. “I wanted to learn and do more. I’ve messed up horribly, horribly so many times, and there are some things that can’t be fixed, but I tried. I’m trying.”

Bokuto sniffles beside him. “I’m trying, too.” Kuroo hears him shifting in the grass before there’s a gentle tug on his jacket sleeve. Kuroo holds out his hand so Bokuto can thread their fingers together. Even with a gorgeous night sky in front of him, Kuroo shuts his eyes to focus on the feeling.

“I know it’s nothing like running away to save the universe, I’m just running away from things that bother me. But like, so, I used to be this big volleyball star, right? My team went to nationals. I won a scholarship for college. I played my heart out, hoping to be picked for the National team. I made it one year, but as an alternate. I never got to play. My parents said what they always said - not to worry, that I will be something big one day.”

Off to the right, Kuroo notices an inkling of light starting to inch over the horizon but he doesn’t interrupt. This time it’s his turn to hold the hand in his a little tighter.

“Eventually I quit. I poured myself into my work because, well, I did enjoy it. My parents were obviously disappointed but they would still say, even though it was harder now, that I could still be something big one day. The line under that was always clear - ‘if you do something else.’” Beside him in the grass, he hears Bokuto moving and Kuroo turns his head to finally look.

He’s greeted by big, bright golden eyes staring straight into his. “But I am already something big. Even without all the things we’ve done together, I don’t need to be anything more.”

Kuroo feels a sting behind his eyes, feels words on his tongue that he wants to say, needs to say, so badly. He’s so close now, staring back at those eyes, and he’s on the edge of that cliff about ready to take the leap into that same wonderful free fall that inevitably ends in heartbreak for him, but he steps back. “You’re so right.” He runs a thumb along Bokuto’s hand. He smiles and waits for one in return. “Look over there.”

Bokuto rolls his head towards his other shoulder. “But how?” He asks, seeing the warm pinks of sunrise over the horizon. “The sun only set, like, twenty minutes ago.”

“Two suns.” Kuroo answers, pointing back at the horizon with his free hand. “Just wait.”

As the second sun appears over the rolling hills of the valley, the warm pinks and yellows break into the entire spectrum of light - from red to purple and everything in between. Bokuto gasps and Kuroo feels a different sting behind his eyes.

A little later he’ll explain the science behind it, dazzle Bokuto with everything he knows, but for now Kuroo’s more than content to pull himself a little closer to Bokuto’s side and watch the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not yet midnight in my time zone so I made it!
> 
> Me: I'll write something short, like 600 words, because I've been stuck on this prompt.  
> Also me: *hammers out 1.5k words after watching some Who*
> 
> This AU. It brings me life. ( •⌄• ू )✧
> 
> Also, like, every time I imagine a version of the Doctor, it's always so heavily influenced by Tennant. The 10th Doctor truly is *my* Doctor.
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).


	7. Day 7 The Ways You Say I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Kuroo tries to say "I love you," and 1 time Bokuto beats him to it.

There are three wonderful, important, and terrifying words that Kuroo has been trying to tell Bokuto for a little over a year now. For a Time Lord, a year is nothing. His stall is but a tiny drop in the well of his life, but he knows for humans a year is a lot. And for humans who become his companions, a year can be all that he gets. So far they’ve been blessed with time, but Kuroo knows that’s not always the case.

*

He’s tried to say it with a smile.

Kuroo was at the university for a while before he remembered what that felt like. He’d teach and bark out lessons, on a power trip so he could feel in control again after everything in his life had fallen apart once again. Then this spikey-haired, big-eyed, loud and sincerely wonderful man had barreled into his life.

One afternoon, only a few days after they met, Bokuto interrupted Kuroo’s ramblings with a ramble of his own. All Kuroo had to do was simply mention the time period that was the focus of Bokuto’s thesis, and the man had taken over Kuroo’s chalkboard drawing timelines and crude, stick-figure diagrams of important battles.

Kuroo sat back in awe. Few people could make him stop his own train of thought once it had run off the rails, but Bokuto had done just that. Kuroo watched as he spoke with a serious passion that was colored by delight. And Kuroo felt it. Somewhere down in the depths of his hearts he felt that frighteningly fantastic twinge - at once both a warning alarm and a soft, sweet song. So he smiled. Not a grin, not a smirk, just a smile.

*

He’s tried to say it with an awkward hug.

If Kuroo thought Bokuto was excited getting to talk about his thesis topic, then he was unprepared for the joy that erupted when they actually went there. Bokuto came face to face with generals from Japan’s past that he’d only studied in texts. Sure that face was nearly served a sword for overstepping some major rules for approaching someone of that stature, but Kuroo talked their way out of it and into tea as he tried to make sure Bokuto would stop - please stop - casually dropping facts about the man’s life that hadn’t happened yet.

“I was just so excited.” Bokuto was practically vibrating as they walked back to the TARDIS. He threw his head back and laughed. Kuroo didn’t know what possessed him at the time but he wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s much stronger arms and tried to hug him. It was anything but comfortable and Bokuto stopped laughing and stiffened. Then Bokuto awkwardly bent his elbows so he could pat Kuroo’s back from where he was trapped in a strange hug.

When Kuroo let go, he stepped back so quickly he nearly tripped.

Bokuto looked him up and down and smiled wide. “You’re weird. I like it.”

*

He’s tried to say it with gratitude.

Bokuto will do things. He so easily throws an arm over Kuroo’s shoulders or grabs his hand when he sees something good and wants Kuroo to see it, too. He’ll ruffle Kuroo’s hair when he’s “being an idiot.” It makes Kuroo feel all messed up inside for a moment, but then he likes it. Bokuto sees them as equals. Being a Time Lord doesn’t mean anything to the other man. It just means they get to go on adventures together.

He’s grown used to all that. But then there’s the kisses. Given with the same carefree nature as any of the other gestures, Bokuto will give him a quick peck on the nose like he’s punctuating a sentence. For a Time Lord that’s experienced a great many things, it positively baffles him.

One evening they were going their separate ways, Bokuto to work on his coursework and Kuroo to do, well, whatever he does in his office, and Bokuto stepped a bit closer than normal. He made fun of Kuroo’s tweed jacket for the eightieth time and then leaned in to press his lips against Kuroo’s cheek. Bokuto lingered there for a moment before stepping back, beaming like a star under the street lamps.

Kuroo pressed hesitant fingers to his cheek and mumbled, “Thank you.”

That night in his office he berated himself for hours - first for saying such a dumb thing and second for overthinking the interaction like a schoolboy with a crush.

*

He’s tried to say it with tears.

Kuroo’s used to too many close calls for himself, but it’s another thing entirely when his choices endanger those that are most important to him. For Bokuto he’d beaten back monsters and beasts and taken it in stride, but one their mischief had landed them far too deep into a trial Kuroo couldn’t talk his way out of. Bokuto’s eyes met his across the vast court chambers where he was about to executed for a crime he was framed for and Kuroo’s whole body froze.

In the end, he’d saved him by solving the real crime and he played it off as though he knew it all along. But it was too close. With every step they took closer to the TARDIS, Bokuto walking silently in step beside him, something took hold of Kuroo’s chest. Slower and slower he walked until he stopped completely. He heard a small sound on the dirt ground beneath him and was surprised that it wasn’t raining, no, those were his tears hitting his boots and the gravel. He turned and crushed Bokuto between his arms with the need to be close. He shed silent tears into the other man’s jacket before he wiped them away, made a joke, and kept on like it hadn’t happened.

*

He’s trying to say it with words.

He knows he needs to. Bokuto’s easygoing, but he’s not dense. He has to know how Kuroo feels, especially since Bokuto hasn’t said the words himself either. And Kuroo definitely knows how he feels. Maybe. Probably.

The university has sprung to life around them. The summer festival with all of its games and food carts is in full swing and Bokuto dragged him into going once again. “Please, I like the fireworks,” was all he really had to say before Kuroo knew he’d give in. 

Bokuto’s hand is in his and Kuroo’s glad for the cover of night because otherwise this could be absolutely scandalous and he’d rather not let go of Bokuto’s hand. He’s not even sure Bokuto knows he’s doing it as they weave through the dimly lit side streets up to Bokuto’s favorite spot to catch the show. It’s so nice, Kuroo thinks, holding hands. What a marvelous thing.

By the time they reach the top of the hill, there’s few other spectators. “It’s a well-kept secret.” Bokuto winks. 

Kuroo’s brain feels foggy with adoration with his hand in Bokuto’s, his eyes watching this ridiculously perfect man watch a simple fireworks show with wide-eyed with wonder, like he hadn’t seen so much more with Kuroo these past few years. Reds, blues, greens, and golds cast beautiful shadows across Bokuto’s face and Kuroo thinks that this is his chance. With both hearts beating like he’s in danger - because he is in danger, love is the most dangerously glorious thing of all - he steals his nerves, twists his fingers further between Bokuto’s, and opens his mouth.

At that moment, Bokuto turns his head and simply says, “I love you.”

This big idiot will always be braver than him, it seems.

Kuroo lets the words dance on his tongue, lets himself savor how they taste in this perfect moment in time where nothing is wrong and nothing is scary and nothing needs saving, then he finally sets them free. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh this was so much fun to write! I feel like these two lovable weirdos fit so nicely with the idea of the Doctor and his companion - so full of charm and mischief, but always meaning the best.
> 
> Thank you so, so much to those of you who read and especially those of you who left comments!
> 
> It's lovely to write something self-indulgent and find that others enjoy it, too.
> 
> (＊◕ᴗ◕＊) Thank you again!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Bokuroo Week 2019! (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡
> 
> I hope you enjoy my little contribution. I certainly enjoyed imagining the world for these ficlets. (I am absolutely weak to the idea of a delightfully charming Time Lord Kuroo with an angsty past.)
> 
> Kudos and comments are fuel for my two Time Lord hearts (and I always reply)!
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter [@HeyMellieJellie.](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie)


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